“You taste like heaven,” he murmured against my hip, and I thought, even if he snapped and killed me tonight, it would have been worth it just to hear him say those words.

“Royce,” I said loudly. “Can we possibly discuss this once you let me out of your lavatory? I feel ridiculous—” He opened the door, cracking a grin. “I’m not letting you out of here until you tell me where you hid my underwear.” “I didn’t hide it,” I said. “I threw out all the pairs that resembled kilts as opposed to plaid boxer shorts. You make a decent living, Royce. Buy yourself some new underwear.”

I was at my wit’s end with my courtship of Royce. My first offering, a bouquet of fern, sage, and sweet pea was meant to intrigue him. A subtle thank you for our evening together, a hint at my identity, and a nudge toward him using my telephone number. By the time I’d sent along the third bouquet, of the most obvious possible blooms—red roses, for God’s sake—I was debasing myself. I may as well have wrapped the flowers around my cock and danced naked in front of him with how forward I was being, but still, he took no notice. I wished to tear my hair out!

“You know, Rohan might be the ‘lord’ of the castle, but you’re the one who meets the brooding, cryptic archetype.”

“Is that… a beer can?” I asked in disbelief, recognising the brand from the six-packs Mike had bought for the camp counsellors’ little party in the woods. “A what?” Lor turned to follow my gaze. “Oh! Lyri found it in your world and brought it back for me to keep.” He faced me again with a winning smile. “I am so lucky to have such a rare treasure. Something from your world.” I bit my lip as I stared down at him, not sure I had the heart to tell him that it was worthless. It wasn’t even a full one—someone had crumpled it in their fist after draining it. “I’ll bring you other things,” I told him hoarsely, wanting to crush him in my arms because he looked so proud to own an empty beer can. “Whatever you want.” His eyes flared with excitement, but he leaned into me, placing his hands on my chest as he said, “You don’t have to bring me anything, Jugs. Just as long as you keep coming back.” I was already trying to figure out what I could bring him—something actually good—but his words made my heart thump hard against his palm. “I’ll keep coming back,” I croaked, unable to stop myself from leaning down to kiss him.

And Lyri would have never cared about scurig webs. He used to let those awful critters crawl over his hand when we were playing in the gardens. He also used to shove them in my face to make me scream. I despised insects. By the Mabs, I hoped the otherworld creature didn’t require insects to eat. I wouldn’t be able to watch him crunching down on bristly little things with wings and pincers and too many legs.

“We can just keep an eye on it for now,” he said, gaze already darting back to the hole. “It’s already grown bigger. Maybe it will keep growing. If it gets big enough, I could poke my head through to see what’s—”
“You are not poking your fool head into a black hole that tears the skin off people,” I gritted out.

Nathan was bad at this part. The first-move part. He wanted to kiss Ben, though lingering doubt made him shy. But when he gazed into Ben’s friendly eyes and only desire greeted him, everything shifted. It was easy to lean in. Simple for Ben to meet him halfway. Natural for their lips to meet. Meant to be.

“I’m sorry about earlier,” Nathan blurted out to stop him from leaving. “Calling you handsome? I mean, you are, handsome, that is, but I shouldn’t have said it. If it made things weird, I’m sorry.” Well, that was embarrassing. Again. At least he’d gotten it out. Ben stopped in his tracks, turned, and slowly came back to the bedside. “You meant it?” A hint of vulnerability slipped into his voice. “I thought it was the medication talking.” Ben tipped his head. “You were heavily drugged at the time.” “I meant it. I mean it.” He may as well get it all out. If Ben didn’t return his feelings, well, after this, they’d never have to see each other again. “I’ve been thinking about you all day.” Nathan let out a deep breath. In general, he wasn’t shy, but he felt shy now. But Ben was kind. He wouldn’t make fun of Nathan. He’d let him down gently. Except Ben was staring at him wide-eyed and…hopeful? Not for the first time, Nathan wished he was better with words. More charming, less nerd-with-a-crush.

“I think you’re just begging to be punished,” he growls in my ear, thrusting against me. I whimper and nod desperately, pitifully. I absolutely crave his punishments. I’m ravenous for his touch. This man, this ruthless, ravishing man, does things to my mind, body, and soul that no one else ever has. Ever will. All I want, forever and ever, is to be his.

“You’re still mine, aren’t you, Little Star?” His lips brush my throat as he continues to fuck me. “Even though we’re back in Neverland?” It’s less a question than it is a challenge, a reminder. “Yes. Yes, I’m yours, Hook.” “Then look at me.” I do, and his lips crash against mine for a fast, rough kiss. “You don’t fucking belong to Neverland. You belong to me.”

“You’re really trying to test me, aren’t you, Peter Pan? If you haven’t figured it out by now, I don’t have much restraint. Especially when it comes to you.”

He glares at the bottle for a few more beats, the vein in his temple throbbing. Then, “I prefer olive oil.” I barely manage to mask a grin. “You really are old.”

“You forgot me once before, but this time, I’ll sear myself onto your fucking soul. You’ll never be able to fucking forget again.”

He’s definitely going to kill me. I wait. For the stabbing. The gutting. The pain. The flashing of my life before my eyes. But all I ever see is the icy blueness of his, holding me hostage. The intense gaze never leaves mine, even as he removes the sword from between us and lets it fall to the ground. His hook comes up, and now I’m sure this is it. But instead of burying it in me, he places it on the back of my arm, the tip pressed lightly above my elbow as though he’s holding onto me. He growls, animalistic.

"It’s not that I don’t have an answer for you,” he says. “It’s that I find the question to be vague. Why does a flower bloom? Why does a nightingale sing? Why does a dog lick his privates? It’s in their nature. I cannot think of a better way to describe what I feel when I’m with you, Aidan. To be with you is in my nature. As if I was made to yours, and you made to be mine.” “Did you really compare our relationship to a dog licking itself?” “What better comparison could there be? A dog must lick, and I must love.”

“I’m glad. Now, I must insist that it’s your turn for a bath. My love for you is purely conditional on your commitment to hygiene.”

“My father used to tell me that grief was an equalizer. It touches everyone from Heaven and Hell alike. He grieves too, for his great love.”

“This isn’t good.” “What is it?” “Two of your ribs are missing.” “Missing?” I run my hand along my side. “Are you sure they were there to begin with? Maybe I was short-changed at birth?”

He was sugar cookies, hot cocoa, and Christmas mornings. Sunbeams, summer days, and laughter.

"[…] She was still the same kid that had given all her Barbies haircuts, then insisted she cut mine. The same kid that skinned her knee at the park and instead of crying, she just told me with importance that “it would heal, daddy. Don’t cry.”

I’d dressed up a bit today. It was his birthday after all. It was tradition. He got to decide whether or not we ate out or stayed in—most years he chose eating out. It wasn’t something we did often. I didn’t like people and Nathan didn’t like making me uncomfortable. For his birthday though—hell. I’d fucking hike to Mordor if it was what he wanted to do.

“Which room do you think is Becca’s?” he asked, like an absolute fucking creep. But he was my creep, so I loved him anyway. “Weird question, bud.” “Right, right.” Nathan shook his head, smoothing his hands on his jeans again to clean them of sweat. “I didn’t mean like…for creepy purposes. I was just curious. You know.” “I know.”

"[…] You are a hurricane of passion and hope and strength. I wanna stand at your center and feel your chaos.”

Bear took a deep breath, his dark lashes fluttering closed. “It’s your scent,” he began. “I won’t deny it drew me in. But it’s so much more. Your taste. Your…everything.” He raised his gaze, drinking Silas in. “You’re so goddamn beautiful,” he murmured. “So graceful—” “Graceful?” Silas snorted, eyes going wide at the heated look Bear gave him. “You are,” the alpha pressed. “You don’t see yourself the way I do. You don’t give yourself an inch of space for love and acceptance. You’re so handsome, it sets my heart racing. You enter a room, and it’s like I’ve been hooked up to a pair of damn jumper cables. And you’re graceful—the way your hands move, the way your expressions change. You’re like…water,” he said on a breath. “Smooth and deep, rapid and churning. Powerful. And you have no fucking idea, which makes me want you even more. I’m crawling out of my skin over here. Do you know how hard it is not to touch you? Hell, looking would be enough, but even that sets you on edge and I’m dyin’—”

“Who are you?” Silas rasped. “Why the hell did you pick me up?” “You were stumbling through the rain on a broken leg,” the man replied in that deep voice. “I wasn’t leavin’ you out there. If you don’t like it, there’s the door. But I’m not slowin’ down. If you want out, you’ll just have to tuck and roll.”